One Last Crime
by King in Yellow
Summary: [modified] The laws of men. The laws of God. The law of nature. Philosophers argued the relationship of them for centuries. After years of being an honest woman Shego will break one or more of them. While more Best Enemies stories could be written this, in the chronology of the BE universe, is the final story set in the series.
1. The Cares of Tomorrow

This is last story set in the Best Enemies series. It will not, necessarily, be the last Best Enemies story I write. Since the initial arc, or perhaps even before it finished, stories appeared from many different points in the long series of events in the lives of Kim and Shego. I saw this as the end long ago - before the initial arc was even finished - and started writing it. But I resisted either finishing or posting it because the last story set in the series would seem too much like the last story I'd write in the series. We'll see if that prophecy comes true. This story is set around sixty-five years after Best Enemies.

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The characters from Kim Possible are owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

NoDrogs created the twins, whose origin was completely altered in my stories. Their younger sister is mine.

Chapter originally began by quoting the first stanza of W. Gordon Smith's poem Come by the Hills, which has been set to a traditional Irish tune. Wonderful song, urging the listener not to borrow additional worries. Let the cares of today be sufficient for the day, tomorrow's troubles will come soon enough.

 **The Cares of Tomorrow**

Kim performed her nightly ritual before going to bed. "I love you."

Shego, who a year earlier had asked why Kim closed each day with the words, performed her own nightly ritual of ignoring Kim. Kim had explained that she wanted those to be her final words. "So, if I don't hear them you have to keep living, right?" Shego had answered.

"I can't live forever, I–"

"You've got a lot of miles left on you. You can talk about dying in another ten years."

"Be realistic… Although how you manage to stay in such good health is a mystery. I'm glad I have you take care of me."

Her own health was no mystery to Shego Part of it might be good genes, but the comet's gift, or curse, of control over energy had convinced her that she could live many years longer.

"I know you heard me," Kim said as she snuggled back against Shego.

"No idea what you're talking about, Princess," Shego said, putting her arm over her partner and kissing the back of Kim's head."

"I love you."

* * *

The morning phone call awakened Sheki. Shego's voice shook, "Your mom died during the night."

"Are you all right?"

"Of course not!" Shego snapped. "Call your sisters. Get your butts over here and let me have a complete breakdown."

Shego and Kim did not live alone in the huge house. Sheki wondered if Shego had told any of the grandchildren, great-grandchildren, friends, or the children of friends who might be staying at the old house at any given time of Kim's death. _"Probably not,"_ Sheki concluded, _"she'll want one of us there."_

Kasy beat her to the house, and was in the sitting room holding Shego when Sheki arrived. The older twin had verified her mother's death, and was now crying in Shego's arms. "Did you call the coroner?" Shego demanded.

"You didn't tell me to call the medical examiner. You told me to call Kasy and Jane," Sheki answered, "I did." She looked at her sister, "Kasy, call the coroner. I need to hold Eemah."

"I can't," Kasy sobbed.

"Sorry," Shego apologized to Sheki, "need you to be strong for another minute."

"I don't think I can," the younger twin answered and sat down on the bed and put an arm around her mother.

There was a slight noise from the hall and Shego called, "Who's up?"

"Just me," Shell answered.

"Call the coroner."

"What?" he asked and opened the door to look in.

"Call the coroner," Sheki repeated. "Your grandmother died last night."

He looked surprised and left quickly to make the call.

Kasy regained her composure and nervously straightened things around the room. When Jane arrived Shego finally started crying.

"I didn't expect it… I…"

"Always tough," Jane agreed. "But she's been fragile the last couple years."

"At least the two of you stayed here and together," Sheki added. "Would you rather she went suddenly or watch her waste away over years until it would have seemed like a blessing?"

"I'm glad there was no suffering," Shego admitted, "I just wasn't ready."

"Even when the person has been physically suffering or losing her mind, you're still never ready for death," Kasy told her sisters. "God, if my mind ever starts to go I hope one of you shoots me."

"Don't say that," Shego warned, "some of the stunts you've done? I'd have gotten the gun years ago."

Kasy managed a small chuckle and her sisters smiled.

The medical examiner came himself instead of an assistant. Shell showed him to the room. He nodded to Shego, "Judge."

He'd been in her courtroom, but she didn't know him well and needed a moment to remember his name, "Mike."

"Phone call said Kim Possible."

"That's right."

"Sorry." He asked routine questions, signed the death certificate, and expressed his sorrow for the family's loss before returning to his office.

The daughters divided up the calling list while they waited for the funeral home to arrive for the body. Kim's pastor received a call, as did Shego's rabbi, friends and family around the country, the hospital to let them know Kasy would not be in to work, and others. It seemed like every time one of them made a call she remembered two more calls which needed to be made.

"Call M-News?" Kasy asked.

"No," Shego answered. "The morbid can hear about it without our encouragement."

"Mom helped a lot of people," Sheki reminded her. "We aren't going to get them all called. We'll forget some."

"Then let M-News contact us. You know they will within the hour."

Shego dressed and went down to the kitchen, where Kasy ordered her to eat something and sat at the table to make sure she obeyed. When the green woman began to talk about cooking for those who would come to offer condolences Kasy told her firmly, "No. You've lost mom. It's your turn to let others do something for you. People will bring food."

The men from the funeral home came for the body. The minister from Kim's church arrived before they left. "Do you want to come to the funeral home and make plans with a director, or have him come here?" one asked.

"Going to talk with the minister first," Sheki told him. "Mom wanted a simple cremation and a memorial service at the church. We plan to follow her wishes."

"Your choice," he said. "But give us a call and let us know as soon as you can."

The pastor of Kim's church was still there when Shego's rabbi arrived.

"Rabbi, have I got a question for you," Shego told the young man in an ironic voice.

"Don't you always," he sighed.

"Sitting shiva."

"Yes?"

Kim's pastor held up her hands in a 'T' for time-out and asked, "Shiva?"

"Mourning period, Chrissie, seven days unless interrupted by a major holiday."

"And Christmas and Easter don't count," Shego added.

"Thanks, Abe."

"No problem, we professionals have each other's backs."

The rabbi turned back to Shego. "So, what's your problem - this time?"

"No burial. Cremation."

"Oi, you would do this to me. So... no plans to scatter the ashes immediately."

"Nope."

"And I think I heard you discussing memorial service as I came in."

"Yes."

"Which won't be immediate... You'll delay that to make it easier for people to clear schedules and get here, of course."

"Kim had a lot of friends in a lot of places, they'll want to be here."

The rabbi thought a minute, "Well, in the evolving world of halakha-"

"Don't let Bob, aka Yitzak, hear you say that."

"How did you end up with him in your family?"

"A lot of teenagers go through rebellious periods."

Kim's pastor spoke, "According to Kim, they all do." She looked at Shego, "She always said yours was a doozy."

"I want to hear that one," the rabbi said.

Shego chucked, "I think I was her rebellion. We're hoping he grows out of his."

Kim's pastor put her hand on Shego's and squeezed it in a comforting manner, "She never grew out of loving you."

Sheki spoke up, "We'll ask the funeral home for cremation tomorrow, and start shiva tomorrow night. Does that work?"

Shego looked to the rabbi, who nodded in agreement. The green woman smiled, "With Kim gone, Sheki is now the voice of reason."

"Hey!" Kasy protested. Shego raised one eyebrow and stared at the older twin. "Never mind," muttered Kasy.

"May I stop by for the shiva?" Reverend Christine asked.

"Absolutely," the rabbi assured her, "but you don't count for a minyan. Halakah has not evolved that much - and probably won't."

"Bob will probably say don't count him," Kasy said with a note of disgust in her voice, "because women will count."

"You'd think someone with the Mishnah and Talmud on his smart phone would realize the sixteenth century is over," the rabbi agreed.

"Too busy reinforcing negative Jewish stereotypes to Christians," added Shego.

"Well, if Christians are allowed I'll tell parishioners they can come," Kim's minister told them. "And I'll tell them not to perpetuate negative Christian stereotypes."

* * *

Shego asked Sheki to take her to the courthouse and the law firm. "Mourning hasn't started yet, and I need to get out of the house."

At the offices of ABD&Z friends and co-workers offered sympathy. Adam Zinski hugged Shego, "I'm sorry, Judge. I was really looking forward to your hundred and seventy-fifth anniversary."

A new paralegal whispered to a clerk who had worked at the firm for years, "Hundred and seventy-fifth anniversary?"

"The Judge and Kim had a religious ceremony before the state recognized same sex-marriages, her co-worker explained in a low voice. "When the state recognized same-sex marriages they had another ceremony. They could have been in the state's first ten, but waited and had the ceremony on their anniversary. Then, when Kim's denomination recognized same-sex unions they had a third - also on their anniversary. So the Judge and Kim counted three anniversaries a year. One hundred sixty was a big blowout about five years ago."

They stopped at the funeral home to finalize arrangements, and cried for twenty minutes in the parking lot before they were able to leave.

* * *

The small copper urn with the cremains was brought to the house on the second day of shiva. When asked about her plans for the ashes Shego gave a vague response, and the subject was dropped as too recent and too painful for decisions to be made.

The memorial service took place at Kim's church a month after her death.

"Long enough the morbidly curious won't try and crash it like they would if we had a funeral," Sheki said.

"Hope Mom's church is big enough," Jane commented. "If everyone who said they want to come makes it, I doubt they have that many for Easter."

* * *

The church was packed. "If anyone says, 'Give the public what they want and they show up', I'll slug you," Shego threatened her daughters as they took a front pew to one side of the sanctuary.

The pastor greeted those who had come for the service and turned it over to Bonnie Rockwaller.

"Those who remember Kim and me from high school - and I see some of you out there - might have figured the only reason I'd be at a memorial service for Kim was to dance. We grow. We change. Well, I haven't changed that much. And if you wonder how I do it, I have two words for you - plastic surgery. Kim became my best friend in college. I'm not sure that was a good reason to ask me to officiate today; this is difficult for me. But the Judge told me I was a professional and could handle it - or she'd hold me in contempt. I've long suspected she holds me in contempt anyway - but that's another story. Our orders today are to celebrate Kim's life. Which should be easy: she had a life worth celebrating. Sad stories, if you know any - and those of us who tried her cooking know a few - are off the table. We've asked three people to share rescue stories, and will then allow anyone who wants to add a rescue story of his or her own to share. Then we've asked three co-workers from Global Justice to share their memories. Other co-workers or friends can share their memories after that. If things start running too long, remember there is a lunch in fellowship hall after the service. Family will close the memorial service." Bonnie did a short tap dance and introduced a man whose cub scout troop had been saved from a flash flood by Kim half a century earlier.

Shego spoke last. She concluded with, "We had a hell of a life together. Kim would not have said that. She spent twenty years telling me not to swear in front of the kids. Twenty years saying don't swear in front of the grandkids. Twenty years of telling me don't swear in front of the great-grandkids. And despite my language I think most of them turned out well. I can swear all I want now, but I'm afraid it won't be fun anymore."

* * *

The county medical examiner called Kasy a couple months after Kim's death. "I'm worried about the Judge."

"We're all worried about her. You wouldn't believe the conversations I have with my sisters… But I don't think that's why you called. What's your worry?"

"Has she seemed especially depressed lately?"

Kasy frowned and thought for a minute, "Not particularly. Mom's death hit her hard. Hit all of us hard, but she's doing reasonably well. Why do you ask?"

"She was in today. Said she'd been checking the statute books. Apparently the state recognized 'broken heart' as a legal cause of death back in eighteen-fifty-one and it's never been taken off the books. She said that was what she wanted on her death certificate, 'Cause of death: broken heart'. Wondered if she might be suicidal or something. Thought you should know."


	2. The Land Where Life Is a Song

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The characters from the Kim Possible are owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners.

Chapter originally began by quoting the second stanza of W. Gordon Smith's poem Come by the Hills, which has been set to a traditional Irish tune. Wonderful song, urging the listener not to borrow additional worries. Enjoy the pleasures of the day, they may or may not last, but enjoy the moment. Tomorrow's troubles will come soon enough.

 **The Land Where Life Is a Song**

Shego began cutting back on her case load, and eventually stopped taking new cases. When questioned by Kasy she responded, "I'm over eighty, can't I take a break?"

What would have been the celebration of Kim and Shego's wedding anniversaries was muted, with no one certain what to say. Would talking about the anniversaries make Shego feel better, or worse?

Ten months after Kim's death, Shego told Sheki, "I don't want you opening the envelope until after my death, but my funeral directions are in the top left drawer of the oak desk. Promise you won't look until I'm gone?"

"I promise."

Two hours later Sheki reported, "There is no envelope in the drawer."

"I knew I couldn't trust a lawyer to keep a promise. It'll be there when you need it."

One of the daughters tried to stop at the large house each day.

Over the weeks Sheki set off alarms on opening the drawer, had spring snakes pop out, and screamed at the sight of a giant mechanical tarantula.

"Honestly," Shego complained, "the way you keep looking for my funeral directions? I think you want me dead."

"Don't tempt me," Sheki threatened, still trembling from the giant spider. "I think you're going to live forever just to torture me."

* * *

The one year anniversary of Kim's death was something of a family memorial service, along with some of Kim and Shego's closest friends.

A few weeks later Shego was surprised to see Jane. It was not the Jane with whom she had shared a cup of tea a few days earlier – and who was now out of the country on a mission. "How far back did you come?"

"Six years."

"You waited six years to say hello to your mother?"

"That's not funny. Tomorrow morning… You'll says thanks for everything. I'll think it was something I did… Was it something I did?"

"Something you did? What are you talking about?"

Jane hesitated, "I won't say… Maybe I gave you the idea."

Shego sighed, "Kasy and Sheki didn't tell you everything, did they?"

"Everything? I'm afraid to talk with them, afraid they'll blame me."

Shego rolled her eyes, "I thought Kim and I didn't have any dumb kids." She hugged her youngest daughter. "My decision came months ago. I'm sorry you felt guilty. Should I say I'm sorry, or remind you of the troubles you caused me?"

"Kasy caused more than me."

"It wasn't a contest to see who could be the biggest pain. Even Sheki had her moments. Every daughter brings her parents grief sometimes."

"Except for mom."

"Yeah, your mom was special. I don't… She probably brought her share of grief to Grandpa James and Grandma Anne. I can't imagine they were happy when she brought me home to meet them."

"They both loved you."

"Eventually. And a little bird gave Grandpa James advance warning. And by 'little bird' we both know exactly who I mean."

Jane changed the subject, "Tomorrow… Tomorrow isn't my fault?"

"No, strictly my decision."

"But–"

"No 'buts'. It's not your fault and don't trying to talk me out of it either. But while we're on the subject of pains, you could have fixed the basement door earlier."

"No, I couldn't. The door turned out to be a wall."

"You may deserve some kind of a child-confusing-a-parent award for that one."

"Well, see, in the early days of temporal physics there was a lot of stuff we didn't understand. We didn't understand walls–"

"Walls?"

"Walls. Limits on ability to go back in time. At first we reacted every time we detected time cooties. Turns out a lot of them we didn't need to react to. Time hiccups."

"Time hiccups?"

"Chrono-anomalies. Recursive, self-destructive time loops. Look, if I went back and shot me at ten–"

"And don't think I haven't considered it. But do it at twelve-thirty, after lunch."

"Eemah! The point is, if I shot myself at age ten I wouldn't be around later to go back and shoot myself. Big time wall - can't do something which would keep your from doing it in the first place."

"And for this you couldn't fix the door to the basement?"

"Well, we jumped on things fast in the early days. So we fixed some things we didn't need to, but some of the fixes ended up being part of the time stream. And that meant we couldn't fix the door earlier because what you did had to happen."

Shego frowned, "I don't think that makes any sense. How far back is this wall?"

"Temporal physics doesn't always make sense. And it isn't like a brick wall, it's kind of porous. Sometimes it's five minutes, sometimes it's five hundred years."

"But you're here now. You weren't afraid of messing up tomorrow?"

"I had to ask if I was responsible."

"You were never responsible. You and Kasy, the two most irresponsible girls I ever knew–"

"Eemah!"

"Don't Eemah me, young lady," Shego smiled. "You know it's true – that's why the two of you never got along. Thank goodness for Sheki… Of course, she had her own stubborn streak. Sometimes I wish I'd pressured you into law school instead of her."

Jane laughed, "You know I wanted to follow mom's footsteps."

"Yes… Tell your sisters when you see them that I'm very proud of all three of you."

Jane suddenly leaned over and hugged her mother tightly. "I love you."

"I know," Shego told her, patting Jane on the back. "I know. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you. Could I ask a favor?"

"Anything."

"Could we go out for coffee?"

* * *

The two women changed clothes before leaving. Jane shivered slightly, wishing she had worn modern fabric under the old coat. "So this's the famous Columbia to Kenya… Shaz but Middleton is run down around here. I saw this place once, and only for a minute."

"It was torn down around the time you were in first grade."

"When you and Mom talked about it, it always sounded special."

"It was special for us. Special doesn't always mean fancy."

"And tonight's the night? You're sure."

"I've never forgotten tonight. Come on, I'll arrive in half an hour – we need to find a place to sit and order."

They found a couch in the back and Tony took their orders. "Over there," Shego nodded toward a booth in the corner. "I'll sit there, on the side where you can't see me. Your mom will be sitting across the table and–"

"And you'll see her from here," Jane finished. "I figured that was the reason you chose this couch."

"The man playing chess with the grad student there," Shego whispered to Jane, "Dr. Kemal."

"Who's he?"

"Teaches Middle-Eastern languages at the U. He's a translator for Global Justice and will ID me… I wonder when he did that… Anyway, he'll be academic advisor for Kim and me in a couple years."

Tony returned with their coffees and a muffin for Jane. As they waited Shego named other people in the cavernous back room. Jane suddenly nudged Shego with her elbow. "You just came in."

"Well, don't be obvious about it," Shego hissed. "I'm scared to death."

"That wasn't much of a disguise," Jane whispered at the pale woman in the coat, apparently thrown over a green-and-black catsuit prowled the room checking for traps.

The younger Shego ruled out the two older women as potential threats. Eventually she accepted Kim had set no traps and slid into the booth, disappearing from view.

"I'll probably be arriving shortly," Jane warned Shego.

"What?"

"We generated time cooties getting here and… There I am now."

The two teens eyed the room suspiciously. Jane+ waved Jane- and Junior over, "Get the heck out of here," she ordered them. "And Junior, where was your head? That fabric hasn't been invented yet."

"You- didn't give me time to change," he answered.

"Why do you blame me?" Jane- protested.

"Out, now," Jane+ ordered again, "before you really mess things up. And don't eat anything on your way out."

Jane- glared at herself, "I don't age well, do I?"

"I'm three hundred years old. And I'm going to have major pimple outbreak before senior prom. Out now!"

The teens left, "I'll order another muffin just to spite me… Was I always that bad at listening?"

"Yes you are. And you get on with yourself as well as you do with Kasy."

"You have to lie to minuses – don't want to mess things up by telling yourself what's going to happen… Of course, sometimes you tell yourself the truth just to really confuse you because you know you don't tell yourself the truth."

"You're making my head hurt. I... There she is!"

Kim looked around the room nervously. Like Shego she expected a trap.

Shego couldn't keep her eyes off Kim, "I can't believe she's so young and stupid."

"Young and stupid?"

"Look at her, she's just a kid."

"You were a lot younger yourself, you know. And what do you mean, 'stupid'?"

"She had no business coming here! I was a criminal! I was here because I was lonely. I needed a friend. I needed someone to talk with. Your mom wasn't afraid of me. Your mom wasn't afraid of anybody. She was so beautiful… I can't believe she fell in love with me."

"I think she needed you as much as you needed her. That was what Grandma Anne said."

"When did she say that?"

"One time when I was talking with her. She said Mom was kind of like Sheki, always wanted to meet or exceed everyone's expectations of her. She worked for good grades, tried out for cheerleader, was on the girls' swim team, saved the world because she felt like that's what other people wanted her to do. She didn't have to make you happy. She didn't have to meet your expectations. You may have been the first person to let her be herself, to decide what she wanted rather than making someone else happy."

"That was what grandma Anne said?"

"Well, I paraphrased a little, but yeah, that was her theory. You made mom happy by letting her find herself."

Shego chuckled, "I don't imagine Anne was happy when your mom decided she was in love with me."

"No, she wasn't."

"Did you ask her when she changed her mind about me… I'm pretty sure she changed her mind eventually."

"She really loved you. I think she said she changed her mind when the twins were born and she saw you in the hospital with them and mom."

"So, about two years from now."

"Um, wait. I think that was when grandma decided mom wasn't crazy for falling in love with you. She may have still thought you were crazy."

"Insanity is hereditary," Shego murmured. "We get it from our children."

"I'm a time cop. I don't do It's a Wonderful Life. But let's imagine you scare her away tonight. What's she going to do? When will she realize she really prefers women - she's only dated guys because it's what society expects? Maybe she'll marry some guy before she finds out. She'd never be happy married to a guy. Maybe it would have been Ron. Mom won't be happy – does she blame him for being unhappy or does she go along because it's what everyone expects of her? He'd probably realize mom wasn't happy. Would he blame himself for failing? Would he blame her for putting impossible demands on him?"

Jane paused. Shego thought for a minute, "I don't know… You really think she was happy with me?"

"Now you're fishing for compliments. You know she was as happy with you as you were with her. You two needed each other. She needed you to remind her to relax and enjoy life. You needed…"

"I needed her to make an honest woman out of me. I'd probably be in some prison cell if it weren't for her."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Well, you should have. Unless you were trying to think of a lie to make me feel better."

The older Shego continued to look at Kim, sitting in the booth at the side of the room. Kim was too engaged in conversation with the younger Shego, or perhaps too accustomed to people looking at her, to notice how one of the older women stared at her.

"I don't suppose i can talk to her?" Shego asked Jane.

"Better not."

"The wall thing?"

"The wall. You've been in a couple recursive, self-destructive loops and–"

"I have?"

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"I don't remember what you're talking about."

"That's the way time hiccups work. When it's over it didn't happen, but it can get pretty nasty as it collapses."

"Can we stay until closing?"

"Do you remember seeing us tonight?"

"I don't remember… I was pretty much just paying attention to your mom."

"You fell hard, didn't you?"

"I don't know… It didn't feel that way at the time. It was months before we really admitted to ourselves what was happening. Looking back at it now… Maybe.

Tony came to the back of the coffee house and announced he was taking last orders for the night. Deep in conversation Kim and Shego paid no attention. Jane stood up, "We'd better leave. You have a big day tomorrow."

"Yes I do," Shego agreed and rose to her feet. It took an effort not to stop at the booth and say, "I love you," to Kim, and an equally strong effort not to smack her younger self in the head and tell her to stop being an idiot.


	3. The Past Has Been Lost

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Chapter originally began by quoting the third stanza of W. Gordon Smith's poem Come by the Hills. The verse reflects on the fact the traces of the past are never gone, what has happened continues to live on. But we are not to live there, the future lies before us. Let the cares of today be sufficient for the day, tomorrow's troubles will come soon enough.

 **The Past Has Been Lost and the Future Is Still to Be Won**

There was always activity in the old house in the morning as people went off to work or school. Often the house would be empty for hours until residents began to filter back, but Shego remained at home. After family and friends departed Shego called Jane.

"Why aren't you at one of your offices?" Jane demanded.

"I didn't feel like working today. How's your mission going?"

"Fine. You never call to ask about missions."

"What never?"

"Well, hardly ever," Jane laughed – picking up the cue from HMS Pinafore.

"Good catch, but aren't you the suspicious one? I called to say thanks for everything yesterday. It meant a lot to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"When you get back, ask Kasy and Sheki if they followed my directions. If they didn't – you're my emergency backup."

"Can you toss me a clue, please?"

"You don't like it when the woman who gave you birth goes mysterious on you?"

"No, it reminds me of a certain wedding anniversary. For which, by the way, she has never apologized."

"What's there to apologize for? Whenever someone tells a story about their crazy mother you have the best topper in the world."

"That is an honor I could do without."

"Be honest. How many times have you told that story?"

"A lot," Jane admitted.

"See," Shego told her smugly. "The worst days make the best stories. But I didn't call to talk history. I have things to do today, but I really needed to call for yesterday and say thanks for everything."

"You still haven't told me what that means."

"You'll know yesterday."

After the call Shego began preparations, but was interrupted by a call of "Hello?"

"Kasy?"

"And Sheki," came the voice of the other twin.

"You two are early."

"You asked us both to stop by, we figured it must be important."

Shego swore quietly under her breath, then went out to meet her daughters. She hugged them both. "Hold on a second, got a song stuck in my head." She headed for the living room, went to the piano, sat down and played a snatch of a song that was unfamiliar to either girl. "Sheki, go make a pot of tea. Kasy, go with her. See if you can find that song. It went with a television show about the Vietnam War. I used to watch reruns of it with grandpa George when I was a little girl."

"Why do–"

"Go to the kitchen with your sister. I'll be done in a minute." Shego began playing Für Elise, a piece Kim had always loved to hear.

Sheki tugged her sister's arm, "Come on, faster to do it her way than argue with her."

"Listen to Sheki," Shego seconded. "Go to the kitchen. I love you." _"Famous last words."_

The younger twin put the kettle on to boil as Kasy tried to find a television program about the Vietnam War that Shego might have watched in reruns with her father. It took several minutes. "The old girl's starting to lose it," Kasy chuckled.

"What?"

"The TV program she watched with grandpa. It wasn't about Vietnam, that was when it was produced. It was set in the Korean War and–," Kasy stared at the phone a second, then screamed, "Sheki! We have to stop Eemah," and took off running.

Sheki ran after her sister, a closed door confronted them with intense light streaming through every crack around the frame. Kasy pushed, "Blocked!"

"I'll help, let–"

Kasy changed her position, blocking her sister. "No! The light is so intense it might blind us."

"What's happening?"

"Remember the story, how she once slowly released her energy as heat to keep mom and Ron alive on a mission in China?"

"Yes."

"She's giving up all her energy fast, as light."

"How did you–"

Kasy handed Sheki her phone, the screen still on the lyrics she had discovered. "The show was called M*A*S*H – Mobile Army Surgical Hospital."

Sheki read the lyrics, "Through early morning fog I see..."

The name of the song is, "Suicide is painless," Kasy explained. Sheki stopped reading and handed the phone back.

"Where are you going?" Kasy demanded as her sister walked away.

"The library, she left instructions for me." The desk drawer held an envelope, and a small package.

The light flickered, and finally went out before Kasy forced the door and entered the living room. Shego was slumped over the keyboard. The intensity of the light had faded the room. Shadows were burned into the walls. Kasy mechanically checked for a pulse, knowing there was no point but feeling a need to do something. The tears started. "Damn you," she muttered softly.

Sheki came to the living room, reading the page of instructions. "Call the chevra kaddisha," she told Kasy. "I'm calling the medical examiner. I'm supposed to threaten him with the biggest lawsuit in the history of Middleton if he asks for an autopsy."

"He won't," Kasy told her. "Eemah already told him how to fill out cause of death. I'll call the cemetery."

"You don't need to," Sheki told her, looking back at the instructions. "She had the grave dug two days ago."

"How did she manage that?"

"Doesn't say. But knowing Eemah it probably included misdirecting someone."

"Yeah."

"There's more," Sheki said, and handed Kasy the instructions.

The Medical Examiner arrived within the hour. "The law calls for an autopsy if–"

"She didn't want an autopsy. Kasy said you'd understand."

The man sighed, "She told me what she wanted. I was afraid... I hoped she'd change her mind, or I guessed wrong on what she meant."

"What are you talking about?" Sheki demanded.

He shrugged. "Law still recognizes 'death by broken heart' as a legal category. Told me that when she died that was what she wanted on the death certificate. Laws sometimes stay on the books too long."

"Death by broken heart?"

"She was a determined woman," Kasy told him. "She always said she'd forgotten how to live without mom. She had to prove she was right."

He nodded, "Well, it'll be on the death certificate, cause of death: broken heart. I'll probably catch hell for it, but it was what she wanted."

"If there are any kind of problem," Sheki told him, "A.B.D. and Z. will defend you, Judge's orders."

"Much obliged," he nodded and left.

The women from the chevra kaddisha arrived during the medical examiner's stop. After his departure Kasy helped them wash Shego's body, wrap her in linen, and then laid the body in the wooden coffin the funeral home had delivered to the house.

Friends and family were allowed in the room as Shego was placed in the coffin. A member of the burial society started to close the top of the coffin when Kasy called, "Not yet! She wanted to be wrapped in her tallis." She ran from the room, and returned a few minutes later with the green-and-black prayer shawl that Ron had given Shego as a gift before her first marriage to Kim – the tallis which had served as the chuppah, the wedding canopy, for the wedding. Kasy carefully wrapped the tallis around Shego's body and nodded to the woman who had tried to close the coffin earlier. "Now."

"No!" said the shaking voice of a teen. Sheki's stomach tightened. Bob strode forward. He pulled out the pocket knife with which he'd already cut his own shirt as a sign of mourning. "You can't bury someone in a kosher tallis," he reminded Kasy and carefully cut off the knotted fringe off one corner of the old tallis. He held the tassel and said, "Now."

The woman did not close the coffin immediately. She reminded the teen, "You were right to cut off the corner, but the custom is to leave it in the coffin."

"No," he said, clutching it tightly. "We may have argued, but I loved her." He started crying, "I want to put it on one corner of my tallis."

Kasy hugged the crying youth. "I think that would have made Eemah very proud." She nodded to the woman, who closed the coffin, which was then carried to the hearse waiting outside.

"She wanted to have the same yahrtzeit as Kim," Bob sobbed.

"Same yahrtzeit?" Kasy asked, puzzled. "It was more than a year since mom died."

"Long year," the teen reminded her. "Remember, the holidays are late this year."

As family and friends exited the house for the trip to the cemetery, Kasy and Sheki were confronted by an angry Jane. "Three days!" she told them in an accusatory voice. "Three days you waited to tell me she was dead."

"Just following instructions," Sheki told her. "She gave us a pretty detailed list – and it said we should wait until your mission was over. Maybe she didn't want it to interfere with your work."

"More likely it was her final poke at me for following in mom's footsteps instead of doing what she wanted," Jane grumbled. "Can I ride with you two of the cemetery? She told me something that... this morning. I... Can I ride with you?"

"Of course," Sheki assured her.

Jane had no plans to tell her older sisters that Shego had thanked her for the day before. She had no idea why Shego thanked her, but there was a small fear in the pit of her stomach that something she had said or done had influenced her mother's decision.

A woman from the burial society called, "You safe to drive, or want me to drive you?"

"We can drive, thanks," Kasy answered.

Ronin headed over, but Sheki waved him away, "Help others. I'm okay."

He raised an eyebrow, "You're okay?"

"No, but I'm running on adrenaline now. When I crash I'm your full-time job."

As the sisters followed the hearse Jane explained, "Eemah said I should ask you if you got something done. I'm your emergency backup if you failed."

"Sheki and me?" Kasy boasted, "Anything is possible for us Possibles. Of course we got it done."

"What was it?"

"Umm..." Kasy mused. "Don't know if we should tell you. Eemah broke halakah."

"Of course we tell her," Sheki said, "she's our sister." She looked at Jane, "But it doesn't go beyond the three of us."

"Eemah broke halakah?"

"Well, she always said Talmud is suggestive rather than binding. And she felt strongly about this." Kasy reminded Jane of Shego's frequent comment, "If the rabbis had really been smart they'd have asked women for their opinion."

"But it still would upset some Jews, so keep it quiet," warned Sheki.

"Okay," Jane agreed. "But dying of a broken heart is not exactly against Jewish law."

Sheki looked at Kasy, "Did you notice the urn on the mantle was gone?"

"You put Mom's ashes in with Eemah?" Jane asked.

"Bob?" Kasy asked.

"I didn't see, but that's my guess. He wouldn't want us treiffing the Jewish cemetery with gentile ashes."

"Wait," Jane protested, "Mom's ashes are gone, and you didn't take them?"

Kasy chucked, "The sneaky little... I guess he really is family."

"I'll tell you what's wrong with this family," Jane protested. "No one will give a straight answer. I mean, I know I can't give myself a straight answer, but you'd think one of us could show a little more of mom."

"Bob was obviously afraid one of us would try and put mom's ashes in the coffin with Eemah," Sheki explained. "So he took the urn from the mantle and must have hidden it somewhere. He's always said it was inappropriate to have the ashes in the house. When he confesses we'll say he should scatter them wherever he feels appropriate."

"I'm still lost," Jane confessed, and looked at Kasy. "Don't say a word."

"Actually, I was going to ask what we do if he notices the little 'D' on the bottom of the urn he took?"

"D?" Jane asked.

"For decoy," Sheki told her. "He guessed right. Eemah wanted mom's ashes in with her. So we put out a decoy urn and he grabbed it. Kasy tucked the real one in under the tallis."

"If this doesn't sound stupid," Jane asked, "why have the Jewish twin do what Jewish law says is wrong instead of the Christian?"

"'Cause there would have been screams that I was anti-Semitic if I got caught," Sheki explained.

Jane said nothing for a minute, thinking. "A hard balance. You need respect for tradition, but you can't be a slave to it. I guess the important thing is Mom and Eemah, back together under their wedding chuppah."

–The End–

* * *

A traditional Jewish funeral takes place the day of death, if possible, or within twenty-four hours. (Traditional funeral practices aren't always followed.) Traditionally things are kept simple. Death is the great leveler – no need to shame a poor family or show of wealth by a rich family. There are separate burial societies for men and women. The body is cleaned, wrapped in linen, and laid in a plain coffin.

Preparing a body for burial is a great mitzvah, since the dead cannot repay you for this act of virtue.

A solar year represents a full orbit of the earth around the sun, about 365.25 days. It took centuries to define precisely. The lunar year is twelve cycles of the moon, around 354 days – easy to observe. The Islamic calendar is strictly lunar. Some calendars, like the Chinese and Jewish, are corrected lunar/lunisolar. They add an extra month periodically to bring the lunar cycle into harmony with the solar cycle. On the Jewish calendar this is an extra month of Adar, and on long years the dates for holy days are pushed back because of the difference.

Yahrzeit, the anniversary of a loved one's death, is observed by the date on the Jewish calendar.


End file.
